Those Little Moments
by emkayy
Summary: It's always those little moments that make our favorite couple so irresistible. A series of Ron and Hermione OneShots though the years.
1. Imperfection

**Those Little Moments**

**Summary:** It's always those little moments that make our favorite couple so irresistible. A series of Ron and Hermione OneShots through the years.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned it would I be sitting at my computer writing Fan Fiction about it? I think not.

**Rating:** K+…for now.

**Author's Note:** This takes place in fifth year. Please note this is also my first Harry Potter story. I new to writing for Harry Potter and sorry if it isn't much good. Thanks to my beta bballfreek91128.

**Imperfection**

How could she love such imperfection? Looking at him, laying on one of the Common Room's couches, she decided that's what he really was- imperfection. His shirt was half tucked in, his hair tussled, his pants creased, sucking on the end of a Sugar Quill, trying to finish his Potions essay. He was the exact definition of imperfection.

Then why did he seem so perfect? _Well, not always perfect_, she thought to herself. Ron Weasley was really anything but perfect. He said the wrong things, infuriated her to beyond belief, was immature and lazy, and picked fights with her about the most mundane things. So why was she sitting here, watching him be so _imperfect_, and wondering why she thought he _was_ perfect.

He had a way about him, she assumed. Something special. Something that just made you forget about the bad and only focus on the good. Or maybe it was because she had known him for such a long time. _Or maybe,_ the little voice in the back of her head reminded her, _it's because you're in love with him. _

She could not ignore the voice. Hermione Granger's inner voice was right, like it was most of the time. She loved him. Now in their fifth year at Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he still hadn't made a move. There were times, little moments between the two, where he seemed to pick up on her very subtle hints. Last year, at the Yule Ball, he got angry she went with Viktor Krum. After their falling out in the Common Room, she (strangely enough) felt a flicker of hope. Was his anger really jealousy?

She didn't know what to think. Their relationship took a turn last year, no matter how minor it was. She noticed whenever Krum's name came up, he scowled. This year, she had concluded, it _was_ jealousy.

She couldn't help but smile. He was jealous. Jealous that someone had asked her out. Her smile grew. And it felt good. Good to know she had that effect on him. She could make him jealous.

She continued to watch his do his homework. His red hair was sticking up in odd places, and his blue eyes kept darting around the page. He scribbled something down, and then sucked on the Sugar Quill again. He was so…Ron. As she looked at him more closely, she noticed there was nothing…special about him. _No. That sounded wrong_, she thought. He _was definitely_ special, but she couldn't help but wonder why she loved him as much as she did. After all, he was imperfect.

He was her best friend. He was funny. He was smart, although he was rather reluctant to admit it. Brave. He was compassionate, when he felt like it. He was the person who made her laugh, even when she didn't feel like smiling. He was truly a friend.

_Maybe that's what love is_, she concluded to herself. _There will just be something about a person, something you can't put your finger on. Something that just makes them so unique and so special, it's impossible to identify. _All she knew was that she loved him.

She continued looking at him. He was imperfection down to a tee. Completely and utterly imperfect. She was prim and proper, and a hell of a lot neater then he was. They were complete opposites. _So why was she in love with him?_

_He's not perfect,_ chimed the little voice. _Well, neither are you,_ came the second voice that spoke occasionally. This time she decided to listen to the second voice. _I'm not perfect and neither is he,_ she said to herself. _The Perfect Couple_.

As she smiled to herself, Ron looked up from his work. He noticed where her gaze was focused. She felt herself turning red, and thanked God that it was dimly lit in the Common Room. She hoped he wouldn't notice-

Too late. He was grinning at her. She felt her heart do a summersault and her stomach do flips. He was the only person who could make her have that reaction.

"What?" he asked her, after he noticed her staring. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Everything's just…" she let her voice trial off. The she smiled. "_Perfect_."

**Ok. I'm not sure what to think of this. I think I may have trailed off the subject at hand, which was her wondering why she loved him if he was so imperfect. And I know this was short. This is **_**unusually**_**short for me. The next one will hopefully be longer. Please tell me what you think of this. I really want critique. And reviews. Reviews too. Thanks for reading! **

**GGfan00**


	2. Something

**Those Little Moments**

**Story Summary:** It's always those little moments that make our favorite couple so irresistible. A series of Ron and Hermione OneShots through the years.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned it would I be sitting at my computer writing Fan Fiction about it? I think not.

**Rating:** K+…for now.

**Author's Note:** Alright, people. Thanks so much to those who reviewed and to those who read. So this one take place right after the war. You can read the description below.

**OneShot Summary: **After the war The Trio is staying at Grimmauld Place, and Ron and Hermione decide it's time to take that one final step.

* * *

**Something**

"Thank you Ron."

"For what?"

"For holding me."

"Hermione, you don't need to thank me for something I would do so willingly."

In a dark corner of the living room at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were huddled up together, under a mountain of blankets. Her head was resting on his bicep, and his free hand and one of hers were entwined.

The week before, The Trio had arrived at Grimmauld Place, seeming they had nowhere else to go. Soon they would all go into training for their respective jobs, and get their own flat. In they meantime, Harry had invited them to share his house with him.

While it did seem strange that Ron and Hermione were sleeping on the floor, when there were multiple bedrooms, Hermione had said something she said almost a year before in the same house: "I don't want to be alone." Ron had willingly volunteered to stay the nights with her, and Harry had enough sense to sleep in one of the other bedrooms upstairs. So that left them alone. Alone for the night, for almost every night. Windows of opportunity for them to turn into something more opened frequently, but neither had acted on them. Yet.

Since their kiss in the Room of Requirement, nothing had happened between the two. They both knew the attraction was there, and now for sure knew the other person liked them back, but still no official moves had been made. They had been courteous around each other. It wasn't being awkward; it was being careful. They knew they were close to the final place, and day by day were getting closer then ever before. It was only a matter of time now.

"Am I hurting your arm—?"

"No, not at all—"

"Should I move—?"

"Don't you dare move."

She sucked in a breath. The way he had said it, with such intensity, was truly amazing. The way his eyes were lit up, and the blue was so bright she felt like it illuminated the space around them. He said it so protectively, like he never wanted her leave his arms. She had to admit she liked it. A lot.

She felt nervous around him, but relaxed at the same time. She felt like she could tell him anything, but yet she was always a little self conscience, even though he told her she shouldn't be. The way he was holding her, and the intensity of his gaze was unnerving her a bit now. The moment he gave her a reassuring squeeze, as if he knew what she was thinking, was when she let go. She forgot about her self consciousness, and she was finally letting herself give into the sensations he was causing her to feel.

She met his gaze. It was still so intense, she was having trouble keeping it. She met it as a challenge, almost. A challenge that asked: who would make the first move tonight? A move that could bring them into something more or just hold them back. It all depended on the move. She hoped it would be the right one, and it would bring them into something more, much more.

He smiled at her. "What are you thinking about?"

She blushed. She wasn't going to tell him the truth, that she was been thinking about him. But tonight was about letting go and getting to that final place. So she told him.

"You." Now she could see that even he was getting red in the face.

She decided to change the topic before it got to awkward. She said the first thing that came to mind, but yet, one of the truest.

"I just can't believe we got through this year. It's been so insane, and I can't believe we're alive."

His gaze became even more intense if possible. "We're here, Mione. We're here and we're staying here for good."

She sighed. "I'm so glad it's over. I'm so happy it's over." She buried her head in his shoulder, and after a little bit came back up. "Imagine what we've been trough this year!"

He smiled ruefully at her. "Battling Death Eaters."

"Sneaking into the Ministry."

"Breaking into Gringotts."

"Malfoy Manor—"

She felt him tense up. She realized what she said have must have brought back some memories for him that he would not like to relive, and she had to say, she would rather like to _Obliviate_ them from herself. It was hard for her, obviously, but she knew it had been hard on him too. She felt herself shiver inside when she thought that. Her pain was his too. He really cared. Maybe he even…_loved_ her.

"I'm sorry," she said.

He gritted his teeth together. When he thought of what happened that night, the night he could have lost her, he felt this large amount of sadness that he had never felt before, with the exception on losing Fred. Even that barely measured up. And he felt anger. Loads of anger to the people who did that to her. Anger to the people who even _thought_ of doing that to her. And right now, he was feeling anger.

"I'm glad the bitch is dead."

"Ron," she chided weakly.

"Admit it. You want to call her a bitch. You're glad she's dead." He gave her a small smile, as if to challenge her to say it.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. She was a bitch and I'm glad she's dead."

The laughter in his eyes died almost instantly, and she knew the joking about the topic was over. She could tell his blue eyes had lost the joking sense they almost always had in them and was now replaced with intensity she had never seen before. So much intensity it would probably hurt to look at them if they weren't in the dark.

"I can't believe she did that to you." His eyes traveled to her neck, where there was a small, thin line going across it, a scar reminding her of that night. His eyes darted back and forth across it and he felt the anger increase. How dare they do that to her? How dare they almost take her away from him?

"It should have been me."

Those words hit her like a bolt of lightning. No. He couldn't think that. She wouldn't let him thank that. Before she could let him know that, however, he spoke again.

"It's my fault this happened to you."

Now she was close to tears. He would have gone through that much pain and torture, just to spare her from it.

"No," she whispered. "No, Ron, it's not your fault."

"Yes, it is. If I tired harder to get her to take me instead of you, it would have been me up there instead of you. It should have been me. I just didn't try hard enough." He was angry with himself. Angry that he let this happen to her. Angry that he couldn't do anything about it.

The tears came closer to falling. "She wouldn't have taken you anyway."

"Yes she would have. You heard her. Mudbloods and Blood Traitors are next to each other in her book. She could have taken me if I'd tried hard enough."

She shook her head almost violently. No. No, the last thing she wanted was for him to beat himself up about this. It wasn't his fault at all. She felt terrible for making him feel this way.

"Ron, please don't do this to yourself. Please don't beat yourself up for this. This isn't your fault. You tried hard enough. No matter what you'd say, it would have still been me."

He dropped her gaze.

She untwined their hands, and brought one up to stoke the side of his face. She felt him shiver underneath her fingers. Was it from the cold or from something else entirely?

"I want you to believe this. Please believe this wasn't your fault. Because, Ron, this wasn't."

His eyes found hers again, and she was shocked to find, like hers, tears were close to falling from his own.

"I'm just sorry it happened in the first place, that's all." He lowered his gaze once again.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, still wrapped in a tight embrace. She had dropped her hand from his face, and had once again locked it with his. She observed the situation again. They were almost _there_. To that place that would make them more then friends, more then the friends who wanted to be more then friends.

She smiled at him and broke the silence.

"Look at us."

She finally met her gaze again. "Huh?"

"This. Us. Look how far we've come. We've gone from being that little girl and boy on the train to—"

She broke off as he laughed. She smiled again. I felt good to make him laugh.

"We really have come a long way, haven't we?" He looked at them. Their bodies practically molded together and the joining of their hands. He smiled back at her.

For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Why she didn't know. Why at this moment of all moments had she thought he was going to kiss her? Maybe it was because she wanted him to so badly or the way his body was pressed up against hers. And was it her imagination or did he just move his head closer?

She focused back to the subject at hand.

"We have! From that little girl and boy, to friends, to almost more then friends, and to…whatever we are now. What are we exactly?"

As she said it she blushed, and she could see that his ears were turning a shade of red, too.

Oh God.

Damn imagination. Why did his lips seem to be getting closer, which was pretty close considering they way they had started out, mashed together? Or were they getting closer, not by her imagination, but from…Ron himself.

"Whatever you want us to be."

Closer his head moved.

"I want us to be something."

Closer.

He smiled at her. "Good. Me too."

She bit her lip, feeling nervous. Was it finally happening? That one final step?

"So…" she stared out. "So, we're…something?"

Closer and closer it moved.

"Yes, Hermione, we are most definitely something."

She couldn't help but smile. So they were _finally_ there.

"I think…we should make it official," he said.

By this point his lips were practically on top of hers.

"How?" she whispered, almost afraid that if she moved she would ruin this magic moment.

"Let me show you."

Then he kissed her.

And the best part?

This time they didn't have to stop.

* * *

**Yay! I'm finally done. I've had this idea for a while and finally seeing it is so amazing. I'm proud of this one. I really like it. Hopefully you guys do too! So tell me what you think by posting a review! **

**Anyone who can spot the **_**Gilmore Girls**_** quote gets 5 cookies!**

**Love you!**

**GGfan00 **


	3. Different

**Those Little Moments. **

**Story Summary:** It's always those little moments that make our favorite couple so irresistible. A series of Ron and Hermione OneShots through the years.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned it would I be sitting at my computer writing Fan Fiction about it? I think not.

**Rating:** K+…for now.

**Author's Note:** Hey, guys. It's GGfan00. Only I'm under a different Pen Name, LiVE.UR.LiFE xx. It's still me! This story takes place during the beginning Horcrux Hunt. And it's more of a drabble then a story. And this takes place before Ron starts acting all asshole-y towards everyone.

**OneShot Summary: **It's different. Their different. It's the little innocent things that led her to believe that this year would definitely be different.

**Different**

Last year when they used to lock eyes, they would blush and look away. This year when they did that, they would still blush, but they wouldn't look away. They only stared harder at each other; challenging the other to look away first. He always did. He was always the first to look away.

This year, they were different. So much more different from the past years. They knew the attraction was there. They knew, but so far hadn't acted on it. It was just there. Hanging about in the air, waiting for someone to pluck it and make use of it. Attraction.

The way his had brushed against hers as he reached for something.

The way he gave her a hug, or a one armed squeeze.

The way she left a lingering hand on his shoulder or chest.

The way she played with the hair at the nape if his neck, and curled it around her finger.

Even they way they looked at each other.

All different.

And all so horribly intimate.

It was odd to do something intimate, in the mist of a dangerous Horcrux hunt, never knowing when it will end, but he still managed to make the smallest things seem so damn _intimate_.

Intimacy was another thing that was different this year. Granted, most people would not define those things as intimate, but the thing was they_ felt_ intimate. It drove her crazy how the stupidest, smallest things he did felt so…different. It wasn't territory she was used to, and to be honest, it scared her a bit. But she knew it was for the best. Everyday was one day closer. To something.

He always seemed to be near her. Okay, that was a stupid thing to say. _Of course _he was always near her. They had been best friends for seven years and now they were sharing a tent together. But it was a different kind of closer. A good kind of closer. He didn't need to be near her that often, but he _wanted_ to. He didn't _need_ to sit with her when she was look-out. He didn't _need_ to constantly give her hugs. He didn't _need_ to check up on her, to make sure she was okay. He didn't need to do those things. He wanted to.

She had to smile. In past years, those things would have been so awkward. Sometimes it felt like it should _be_ awkward. Like when they had a lingering hug. The hug should have been over moments before, but they didn't want to let go. Instead of being awkward it felt…_right_. Like she belonged there, in his arms. Maybe she did.

She sat curled up on the couch in the tent she had been sharing with Ron and Harry for the past four days, contemplating these small little differences that meant the world to her. About four yards in front of her was the entrance of the tent, where Ron was look-out that night. She had been staring a the back of his head as these thoughts ran through her own. She was so wrapped up in the memories of changes and intimacy, that she didn't hear the foot steps approaching her.

"Hey," said a quiet voice.

This startled her. She looked around and caught sight of a smirking Harry standing right above her.

"Oh, hey," she said.

He took a seat next to her on a ratty old sofa. He too stared at the back of Ron's head.

A few moments later, Harry turned to her. "You okay?"

She took her eyes for Ron and gave Harry a small smile. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"Okay."

Her attention turned back to Ron. She didn't care if Harry caught her staring. He knew. He had known for a while now. He probably knew before they admitted it to themselves. He glanced and Ron then back to Hermione. Then back again. He spoke again.

"It's different, yeah?"

This caught her attention. After all, hadn't she just been thinking about differences? She looked at him, trying to see what he meant.

"What do you mean?"

"You and him."

He didn't need to elaborate. She knew what he meant now. Apparently, it was even obvious to someone who had nothing but and evil wizard and Horcruxes on his mind.

"Yeah," she whispered. "It is."

"It's only going to change even more. After this war is all over… Do you think you two will…?" He let his voice trail off.

"I hope so." She didn't say anymore.

She hoped they would get together after the war. She hoped they could get together now. She prayed to God that they could be together now. She knew emotions were something they could not afford. But who was she kidding? Emotions were running deep, and had been or some time. Whether she liked it or not, there were heavy emotional attachments.

Another thing that was different. The emotion. That had appeared recently, too. She had always been attached to him, but to have the attachment run so deep she didn't know what she would do if she lost him? _That_ was new. And it scared her. What would she do if she lost him to this war? How could she live on? It scared her that she felt so attached to him. Like, she couldn't breathe if he didn't.

Harry interrupted her thoughts once again. "It will all work out you know. It will all be fine in the end." _Whenever the end **is**_. It seemed like it wouldn't end until forever. After all, they had only been in the blasted tent for four days.

She turned her full attention to him once again. "What if it doesn't?"

"It will." He said it so confidently, she had no choice but to believe him. She gave him a small smile and turned her attention back to her thoughts and the back of Ron's head.

_It will be okay. It __**will**_. She was going to keep strong and keep faith that this would all be over soon enough and then she and Ron could be together. She blushed at the thought. It was so new to her; so…_different_.

She smiled to herself.

Different.

That pretty much summed up their relationship this year. And she liked it. Even though those differences scared her, she was happy about them. Each difference promised that something good would come out of this all.

Something new.

Something exciting.

Something…different.

* * *

**Okay, be honest. How was that? I'm not too crazy about it, but tell me what you think. Hopefully you liked it!**

**Remember this is still GGfan00! Just under a different name!**

**Review!**


	4. Damn Mistletoe

**Those Little Moments**

**Story Summary:** It's always those little moments that make our favorite couple so irresistible. A series of Ron and Hermione OneShots through the years.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned it would I be sitting at my computer writing Fan Fiction about it? I think not.

**Rating:** Bumped it up to T.

**Author's Note:** Hey, everyone. I'm back with a new OneShot in honor of the holidays. And yes, I do realize it's a little late, but better late then never, right? So here I present to you this little piece of flirty, fluffy, fun.

**OneShot Summary:** Damn mistletoe. It can ruin everything. Especially a perfectly normal evening with your best friend.

**Damn Mistletoe**

As Harry dismissed the last D.A. class before the holidays, children filled the corridors going back to their respective common rooms. Harry had stayed behind (with Cho Chang, no less), so the Gryffindors were going back one less. Ron and Hermione just happened to be lagging behind. As they were walking down up a staircase, Hermione noticed a little smirk come across Ron's face.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," was the reply she got, but the smirk still remained.

"Seriously, what?" She hated not knowing everything.

"It's just…" he let his voice trial off a bit. "I think Harry might not be coming back for a while."

"Ron!" she chided.

"Well," he began defensively, "I'm sorry, but it's true!"

"They could just be talking for all you know."

He snorted. "We left him and Cho under a bit of mistletoe, and you think they're talking?" he asked her incredulously. Was she out of her mind?

It was her turn to snort. "Mistletoe. Who ever thought of such a stupid idea?"

"Ah, Hermione," Ron sighed as they clambered up another staircase, "ever the romantic."

"Well it is stupid!" she said indignantly. "Who ever heard of kissing under a parasitic plant? That's incredible unromantic!"

"Well, someone's in the holiday spirit," Ron quipped.

"I bet the person who made up the tradition didn't know mistletoe was poisonous," she said as she continued her rant. "People can die from eating the berries!"

"I'm so glad I get to spend the holidays with you, Hermione. It's not like you're depressing or anything!"

She glared.

"But, really," he continued. "What do you have against mistletoe, anyway? Did you have a bad run in with it as a kid or something?"

She continued to glare.

By this time they had reached the Fat Lady. Hermione gave her the password, and she granted them the permission to enter. Ron continued to talk and Hermione continued to glare as they made their way across the common room, looking for an empty couch. They finally found a vacant one near the back of the room, and continued talking. She loved how easily conversation flowed between them. Almost nothing was off-limits. They could tease each other, laugh about nothing, or actually discuss serious matters. It was during this particular conversation though, that Hermione's eyes wondered around the room. They glanced sideways, down, up- Wait a minute. They glanced up again. Mistletoe. Dammit. _Mistletoe_. No, Ron couldn't notice it. Maybe he hadn't noticed her eyes glanced up. Maybe they wouldn't follow- Crap. Too late. God, now she would never hear the end of it.

An evil grin spread across his face. "Well, what do we have here? Mistletoe it seems."

"Shut up Ron."

"Would you like to continue your rant?"

"I mean it Ron, shut up."

She looked up again. It was taunting her. Reminding her of what she wanted but couldn't have. What wasn't quite within her reach. She would have given anything at the moment for one kiss with him. But here she was with the opportunity, and she was mocked it. He noticed her staring at it again.

"What?" he asked her, bringing her out of her reverie. Then she smirked as she turned red. She loved the fact he could make her blush so easily.

She frowned at his smirk. "Oh, don't act so cocky," she told him. "You think just because I'm sitting here with you, I'll change my mind?"

It was only after she had finished what she had to say, when she realized _what_ she had said. Her felt her face flushed in mortification, and her eyes widen. She noted the same thing was happening to him.

"N-no. I-I didn't…I mean…" he stuttered at her.

"Of-of course. I know, I'm…I…never mind," she stuttered back at him.

"Yeah," she said, his face still a little red. "Yeah, that wouldn't happen, even if you weren't opposed to the idea. 'Cause we're friends, right?" He seemed to be looking _everywhere_, but at not her.

She forced a smile and swallowed the lump in her throat. Friends. Or course.

"Yeah," she agreed unwillingly. "Friends. Best friends."

He gave her that smile of his. The one that caused her heart to melt and her stomach to do back flips. That stupid, disarming smile, which she loved so much. The smile he seemed to use only for her. It made her regret her words even more.

Damn Mistletoe.

**Hope you guys liked it! Please review! Happy Holidays and have a happy New Year!**

**LiVE.UR.LiFE xx **


	5. Battle

**Those Little Moments**

**Story Summary:** It's always those little moments that make our favorite couple so irresistible. A series of Ron and Hermione OneShots through the years.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned it would I be sitting at my computer writing Fan Fiction about it? I think not.

**Rating:** Bumped it up to T.

**Author's Note:** Hey, everyone. Here's a new one! It takes place 6th year, after Ron got poisoned. Hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to review!

**OneShot Summary: **It's been months since they talked. Months since they've been alone. Months since everything has been fine. But tonight that's about to change.

**Battle**

_------------------------------------------_

_You thought we'd be fine  
All these years gone by  
Now you're asking me to listen  
Well then tell me about everything  
No lies  
We're losing time  
-Battle, Colbie Caillat_

_---------------------------------------_

She had almost lost him. She had almost lost him and he would have never known. Never known how she felt. But he was here. He was alive. _Alive._

It was two days after his birthday. Tow days after he had been poisoned. Two days after he had almost _died._ She shuddered. No, she couldn't think that. Because he was here. So two days after the incident, she was going to visit him. Yesterday she had gone with Harry and hadn't said much of anything. She just sat there staring at her shoes. But even as he talked to Harry, she felt his eyes on her. We was watching her the entire time.

As they got up to leave, he had held Harry back. She had heard their hurried, whispered conversation.

"She came, right? That's good isn't it?" he had whispered franticly to Harry.

"Yeah, yeah, that's good. I'm sure that's good," Harry had whispered back.

She smiled in spite of herself. It was cute how they were so confused. But Harry was right. It _was_ good that she came.

But that was yesterday. Today she walked down the corridors that led to the Hospital Wing, and realized she would be alone wit him for the first time in months. Alone. No one to fill in the awkward silences that were sure to happen. No one to stop her from saying something stupid, like her feelings.

Her feelings. How did she feel? For one, hurt. He had gone to Lavender. Why? She didn't know. So confused was another one. Angry. She was angry, so angry. Why did he was to do this? It wasn't fair. And she left love. Love? Where had that come form? What did she even know about love? She was seventeen. But she knew enough. She loved him. As reluctant as she was to admit to other people she even _liked_ him, she knew she loved him. And that's why it hurt so much. Because of love.

As she walked to the Hospital Wing, she felt so nervous. She didn't necessarily know why- after all, hadn't they been best friends since first year? Hadn't they shared almost everything? But this was different. They were still best friends, but at the same time, so much more. And he hadn't shared this. He hadn't said why he did this. She doubted she would ever find out.

She reached the Hospital Wings huge oak doors, and opened a door, and poked her head inside. She saw Madame Pomfrey, fussing over some first years with fevers; random children laying in random beds; then he saw him. A mess of flaming red hair lay atop his head, he was sitting upright (always a good sign), and reading a magazine. Madame Pomfrey spotted her and spoke to her.

"Ms Granger!"

She gave a little start and turned her attention towards the older woman.

"Oh, hello, Madame Pomfrey. I'm here to see-"

But before she could finish, Madame Pomfrey called across the room.

"Mr. Weasley! You have a visitor!"

No. This wasn't what she had planned. Well, actually she hadn't planned anything, but if she had it would most certainly not have been this.

He looked up from his magazine, and turned his attention to where Madame Pomfrey spoke. Then he saw her. Obviously he was expecting Harry or Ginny, not her, because he looked shocked to see her. His mouth opened like he was going to say something, but he quickly shut it again.

She fully stepped into the room, sucked in a breathe, and started walking slowly to his bed on the other side of the room. The whole time she just stared at her as if he couldn't believe she was actually there. When she reached his bedside she gave him a small, nervous smile.

"Ron."

"Hermione."

Those were the first words they had spoken to each other in months. It was been too long since they had last spoke, and she realized how much she was missed his voice. It made her want to cry. God, she had missed him so much.

They were silent for a while. He sat in bed half-reclining half-sitting up, and stared at her, and she stood there like and idiot and just stared back at him. She finally decided to break the silence by saying the first thing that came to mind.

"How are you feeling?"

She mentally kicked herself. Was that all she could think of?

"Feeling?" He snapped out of his reverie. "Oh, um, just a headache, but I'm fine."

"That's good."

Silence engulfed them again.

"D-do you want to sit?" he asked her.

"Oh, sure."

She pulled up a chair and sat down.

More silence.

"Listen, Hermione," he stared. "I'm really-"

"It's fine Ron," she cut him off.

"No it's not. I'm really sorry for what-" he looked up at the ceiling, searching for the right words. "What happened," he finally settled on. He avoided her gaze as he continued. "And I missed you. A lot."

She bit her bottom lip and willed herself not to cry. It was amazing to hear that; it was just what she wanted, but she had no idea how to respond. So she went with the truth.

"I miss you a lot, too."

He met her gaze again. She loved his eyes. They were just so…blue. They were the brightest blue she had ever seen on a pair of eyes, and she loved the way he looked at her. Granted, it hadn't been for months now, but back before this whole Lavender Brown business started she used to think that there was a little something special in there for her. She knew it sounded insane, but when he looked at her she felt as if he only looked at _her_ like that.

"And," she continued, "I'm glad you're okay."

He smiled warmly at her. "I'm fine."

"I know. It was just really scary."

Quiet.

"Do you hate me?" he blurted out unexpectedly.

She was taken aback. "What?"

"Do you hate me?"

"No!"

"Why?"

That got her. Why didn't she hate him? She already knew the answer, but she wasn't about to go and tell him that yet, so she said:

"I don't know."

"You should."

"I know I should!" she cried out. "I know I should but I don't! And I hate that! I hate that I can't hate you!"

There was more quiet and she willed tears not to fall.

After a few minutes, Ron broke it. "Hermione, I need to know something. Are we okay?"

"We're fine Ron."

He saw through her little white lie.

"Hermione…"

This time she didn't look him in the eye. She looked down at the floor as she muttered, "You hurt me." Tears pooled in her eyes again. She wouldn't cry here. She _couldn't_ cry here, in front of Ron.

"I'm sorry," she heard him say in a whisper. "And I know those words don't help much but I want you to know I really mean them. Can you forgive me?"

"I forgive you, Ron. It's just…it really, really hurt."

She was never like this, showing her true emotions and feelings. And if felt good now that she was.

"I'm really sorry."

"I know."

Another silence.

"So…what's been going on?"

She smiled at this. No more emotions or revelations. Just a talk between to friends.

So she told him.

As they were laughing together and hour later, Hermione happened to glance at her watch.

"Oh, shoot! It's 8:30 already!"

"So?"

"So, I need to be getting back!"

As she stood up to leave, she noted the disappointed look on his face, and felt a sense of pride. He didn't want her to leave.

Before her departure, they hugged. Their first physical contact in months. And it felt good. Damn good. Little shivers raced up and down her spine and goose bumps erupted on her arms, which she knew had nothing to do with the slight draft in the room. She practically bounced with joy to feel him shiver too. At least she knew she was not alone.

When they detached, his hand slid down her arm and grabbed onto her hand. "Will you come back tomorrow?"

"If you want me to."

He gave her hand a squeeze. "Come back tomorrow."

So she did.

**Hey guys. I know the title has nothing to do with the story but it's the name of the song in the beginning and I couldn't think of anything else. Please review!**

**LiVE.UR.LiFE xx**


	6. An End

**Those Little Moments**

**Story Summary:** It's always those little moments that make our favorite couple so irresistible. A series of Ron and Hermione OneShots through the years.

**Disclaimer:** I own it just like I own a good computer…Translation: no.

**Rating:** Bumped it up to T.

**Author's Note:** Hey everyone! This is the second part to _Battle_. In the other one I addressed the issue of being hurt, but not of the main source. That's right, people. It's Lavender time.--Grins wickedly--

**OneShot Summary: **Now the third day after Ron's poisoning, he and Hermione discuss some very important issues. Mainly, what's been holding them back. Lavender.

* * *

**An End**

"Goodbye Won-Won. I love you."

He didn't love Lavender. He never had. He wasn't even sure he liked her. He decided he probably didn't.

He cracked an eye open as he heard the click-clack of her heels on the Hospital Wing floor. When the sound of her shoes ceased, he opened both eyes and rolled onto is back. He sighed. Lavender was a pain in the arse. He was in the Hospital Wong after a nasty accidental poisoning, and was resting up, but then Lavender had to visit. She was apparently in rage that no one had bothered to tell her about her boyfriend's (he shuddered when she had said the word) poisoning, until last night, and by then it was already to late to sneak out. Personally, he hoped she stayed away. When Lavender had come to visit, he feigned sleep. He was in no mood to talk to her. However, she talked to him anyway! As if she knew he was faking! He was sure she didn't or else she would have let on and then killed him. Oh, how he hoped she stayed away…

Even thought he wasn't in the mood to talk to Lavender, that didn't mean he wasn't in the mood to talk to another Gryffindor girl. One whom he had been in a fight with and hadn't spoken to for months until last night. The one he wished he was snogging instead of Lavender. That one he would gladly talk to…

She said she would come back. Last night he had asked her and she promised she would. He glanced at the clock on the wall. 5:30. Classes ended half and hour ago. Shouldn't she be here by now? She would show, right?

As he contemplated these thoughts, he heard footsteps in the tile floor. He quickly turned over, assuming Lavender had come back for a little chat. As he closed his eyes, hoping he could actually fall asleep this time as not to listen to her, the footsteps ended at his bedside. So it was Lavender. Great, now he would have to…

"Ron?" a voice called softly.

Lavenders' voice sounded different for some reason. Less…Lavender.

"Ron?"

He felt like hitting himself over the head with something heavy. How could he have forgotten her voice? That wasn't Lavender. That was…

"Hermione?" he whispered back.

"Who'd you think it was?"

He breathed a sigh of relief. It was her. Finally. He rolled over in his back and pushed himself up in bed. He instantly regretted it. He was suddenly overcome with a pounding headache that was equivalent to being struck in the head multiple times with a beaters bat. He winced in his discomfort. She must have noticed because she asked him what was wrong.

"Nothing. I'm fine. Just a bit of a headache is all."

She looked skeptical but dropped the subject of his aliments. "Were you sleeping?" she asked.

"No."

"Oh, you looked like you were."

"Well, usually the only way to get someone to not talk to you is if you're sleeping," he muttered under his breath.

Apparently she heard. "You didn't want to talk to me?" He couldn't help but notice she sounded hurt.

"No! No, not you."

"Then who?" After a few beats, a small smile crept across her features. "You know I heard Lavender telling Parvati that she was going to visit you today."

He gulped. She knew. How could she not? She was a smart girl, and it didn't exactly take a genius to put two and two together. "Really?" he asked. "That's interesting."

"Uh-huh. I'm pretty sure she went straight after classes ended." Then she jumped straight to the point. "You wouldn't have faked sleep, would you?"

There was no point in lying to her. "Yes."

"Well, this is fantastic! You're awake now. Should I go get Lavender and tell her?"

Panic overcame him. Was this her revenge for these past couple months? Push Lavender on him? Because that would be worse then _anything_ at the moment, unless Hermione stopped speaking to him again. That would be _the_ worst, he decided.

He obviously looked how he felt, because not a moment later, she burst out laughing. He glared. She was evil, and she knew it.

"You thought I was serious, didn't you?"

"I almost _die_, and you decide to play mean?"

The instant he said it, he regretted it. Her face lost its smile, and her eyes lost their laughter.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay."

Silence. It was like last night all over again.

"Do you want to sit?" he asked, and broke the stillness at the same time.

"Sure," she said. She moved to pull up a chair, but before he could stop himself he stopped her.

"No."

She paused her pulling of the chair to his bedside. "What?"

"You can, um, you can sit here, you know," and he patted to the edge of his bed.

She stiffened and he mentally cursed himself. Why didn't he think before he spoke? There was a terrible, billowing, awkward silence, until he felt he was to say _something_.

"Y-you don't have to. It was only a-"

"No, no. It's-it's okay-"

"'Cause, it's fine with me if you don't-"

"I, um, I will."

There was a pause as she stared resolutely at her shoes, and he attempted to hide a small smile. Just as he was about to break, he heard her footsteps approaching the bed. He adjusted to make room for her, and she sat on the very edge of the bed, practically about to fall off, but still close. A little too close. And if she was close, he might touch her. Then she might touch him back. This would cause him to loose his mind, and do something stupid she might slap him for. Like kiss her. That would certainly call for a slap. He tried to ignore the urge to touch her and focus on getting a conversation started. Wait, since when did he need to work on getting a conversation started? They were best friends! This should come naturally!

He was about to open his mouth, but she beat him to it. "So why are you avoiding Lavender?"

Lavender definitely would not have been his first topic choice, but he went along with it anyway. It was better to speak about Lavender then not speak at all. "You try going out with her," he retorted. "You'd be doing the same."

Confusion swept over her features. He could not blame her. The situation wasn't exactly making sense at the moment. "Then why are you still going out with her?" She would not look at him, only at the floor, and a blush spread over her cheeks.

"'Cause I'm a coward," he said, mostly to himself. "I don't want to go out with her anymore."

"Then stop being a coward and end it." Coming from her mouth it didn't sound like a suggestion. It sounded like a command.

"Easier said then done."

She mumbled something incoherent under her breath.

"Sorry," he said. "Didn't catch that."

She sighed and turned a brighter shade of red. While she still stared determinedly at her shoes, she muttered, barely audible, "Why did you go out with her in the first place?"

His mouth went dry. This was the moment he had been dreading. He knew it was inevitable, but nonetheless, dreadful. He wanted to answer truthfully, but he might get a slap for that. And he wasn't even touching her!

"Well," he said. "Umm…"

"Just tell me, Ron." He detected a trace of anger in her voice now. Not a good sign.

"Because of you, alright?" He spit out the words quickly and waited for the blow.

After a pause she asked "Me?" Her voice as timid and shy, and incredibly confused.

"I-you snogged Krum."

She was dumbstruck. "How do you-"

"Ginny told me while we were fighting, and long story short, I was jealous and immature and Lavender was available, and you were angry. The end." He got it all out quickly and waited for her reaction. He only hoped it didn't hurt too much. But to his surprise, he got nothing.

"Okay. I just wanted to know." Then they lapsed back into silence for a minute.

"So…what's new?" he asked, trying anything to break the quiet.

A faint smile crossed her lips. "Didn't we just talk about this yesterday night?"

"Yes, but one hour couldn't have covered it all. I haven't spoken to you in a couple months," he admitted somewhat embarrassed, for most of that had been his fault.

"Fine," she said and gave a fake exasperated sigh.

As she rambled on about her workload, _spew_, and the mysterious Half-Blood Prince,he came to a decision. He was going to end it with Lavender. Soon. Because at the moment he found he couldn't stand being friends with Hermione and not being _more_ then friends. He wanted her, and he was going to have her, as soon as he found a way to end it. He wouldn't hurt her again, he promised himself. He knew it was a lost cause though; he was bound to muck up some time. Instead, he promised he would never hurt her again intentionally. He would never make her cry, just to feel better about something. Never again would he make her jealous.

But could he really do those things? He looked up into her face. Her cheeks were flushed, she was rambling on a mile and minute, and her hair was out of control. As he looked on, he found his answer. Yes. He most definitely could. As it turns out, they—whoever 'they' is—are right. There's never an end; only a different beginning.

* * *

**Well, I'm back! After a while of a writers block, I'm back, and hopefully I still got it. I'm not sure if the ending was too rushed; what do you think? I know my two best friends have been waiting for this forever and I've been torturing them, so I'd like to dedicate this chapter to them, for all their amazing encouragement and help. I love you guys!**

**By the way, the next chapter should be up in about a week. Next one's not connected to this one at all. **

**LiVE.UR.LiFE xx **


	7. Little Voices

Those Little Moments

**Those Little Moments**

**Story Summary:** It's always those little moments that make our favorite couple so irresistible. A series of Ron and Hermione OneShots through the years.

**Disclaimer:** Do I look like J.K. Rowling? Wait, you don't know what I look like. Never mind then. But the answer is no. I do not.

**Rating:** T.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for all the reviews everyone! I've actually had this story written for a while, but it hasn't been published until now. And yeah, I know what you're saying: '_Another_ 6th year fic?' But yes, another 6th year fic. There's just so much to write about! The next one though, is taking place during DH so don't worry.

**OneShot Summary: **

**Little Voices**

_

* * *

_

I keep my jealousy close,  
'Cause it's all mine.  
And if you say this makes you happy,  
Then I'm not the only one lying.

_-Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner, Fall Out Boy_

* * *

Hermione Granger had to admit she looked good. Maybe good was pushing it a bit too far she decided, as she looked at herself in the dorms full-length mirror. So she finally settled on nice. She most definitely did look nice.

To the normal eye, Hermione Granger did look good. Great, some might even say. Her normally bushy, out-of-control hair was up in a neat bun, with some loose curls coming out. Granted, her cream sweater was a bit lower cut then what she usually wore. So what if her black skirt was just a little bit shorter? She even donned some lip gloss. She was, after all, going out on a date. Even as she though about it she grimaced. There was no reason to, she tried to convince herself. Her date was a charming young man who—oh, who was she kidding? He was an oaf. But tonight she was determined to have fun and impress him. Not to impress some redheaded git who was currently sitting in the Common Room. The same redheaded git she was in love with. Who also happened to be eating her roommates face on a daily basis.

Lavender Brown. Lavender Sodding Brown. He was with Lavender. _Lavender_. Why the hell was he with Lavender? Before the whole fiasco (which she tried her hardest to forget. Never again could she look at another canary), she had almost been positive that he wanted to be with her. All the signs where there. But instead he was with Lavender. She couldn't even think the name without feeling sick.

She glared at her own reflection, still lost in thought. She didn't care, she decided. She officially didn't care what Ron Weasley did anymore. He could snog Lavender, marry her, and have stupid gorgeous babies with—her inner ramblings were interrupted by that stupid little voice that lived in the back of her mind, that came out occasionally to advise her on something she knew absolutely nothing about. Like love. _If you didn't care,_ said Little Voice, _you wouldn't be thinking about it._

She felt like punching something. Damn the Little Voice, damn it! Why did it always have to be so right?

Her internal conflict was interrupted yet again. Not by a stupid, fictional voice, but by an actual person. Hermione caught her eye in the mirror.

"Oh! Hi, Hermione," said Parvati Patil brightly.

Hermione smiled at her. Parvati had laughed at her today in Transfiguration, and Hermione had been rather hurt. Surely enough Parvati had redeemed herself at dinner. She had given her the perfect opportunity to drop the bomb that she would be Cormac McLaggen's date to Slughorn's Christmas party. Right in front of Ron.

As she said it she heard Ron surface from the depths of Lavender's mouth. She felt him staring at her, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of looking his way. She had to give it to Parvati; she had perfect timing. Bravo, Parvati, bravo.

In all honesty, Hermione was surprised Parvati was still talking to her. After all, she was Lavender's best friend, and she and Lavender weren't exactly on speaking terms right now.

"Hello, Parvati. How are you?" She could tell the other girl still felt bad about her teasing.

"Oh, I'm fine. You?"

"I'm great, thanks." Could there have been a bigger lie?

"You look fabulous by the way," said Parvati, as she rummaged through her truck at the foot of her four poster.

"Oh," replied Hermione, with a slightly surprised tone. Either Parvati felt _really_ bad or she looked better then she thought. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," was the reply she got, as Parvati still continued to look through mountains of who-knows-what in her trunk. There was a slight awkward silence until it was broken.

"You know, I'm really sorry I laughed today. I didn't mean to. And I meant what I said before about you looking fabulous."

"Oh, it's fine Parvati," Hermione said. She had no reason to be angry now. "Don't worry about it." She dismissed it with a wave of her hand, and then added in, "And thank you, again."

"No problem."

She looked again at Parvati thought the dusty, old mirror. The other girl had opened her mouth, as if about to speak, but quickly shut it again. Then it opened again, and this time something did come out.

"He likes you, you know."

Hermione played dumb even though she knew perfectly well what Parvati was talking about.

"Who? Cormac?"

She saw Parvati roll her eyes.

"No. Not Cormac, Hermione."

The need to be oblivious was just too much. "Who then?"

Parvati pursed her lips in frustration. "You know who I'm talking about!" she called out.

That was her breaking point. She pun around facing Parvati, her expression slightly wild. "Then why," she said, trying to keep her voice under control, "is he snogging Lavender every blasted day?" _Please don't cry,_ Hermione silently begged herself.

Parvati looked at her wide-eyed and gave a simply one-shouldered shrug. "Because he's a git."

Hermione stood there for a minute collecting her thoughts as she stared up at the ceiling, hoping she wouldn't cry, now that the urge was even greater.

Ash she kept her eyes up, she felt a comforting arm go around her shoulders. Parvati had gotten up to console her. She really was a nice girl.

"Listen, Lavender's my best friend," she started, "and I love her to bits." Hermione had to bite her tongue as she fought the urge to laugh harshly at the words _love_ and_ Lavender_ in such close vicinity in the same sentence. "But one of the things she needs to work on is being a little more aware of what goes on right in front of her own nose." She led Hermione over to her bed and sat her down, as she continued to stand. "One of the things she probably chooses to be oblivious to is that the poor boy's so obviously in love with you." She caught Hermione's blush and smirked. "He is! Everyone knows it!"

"He doesn't," muttered Hermione. "And even if he did, Lavender obviously doesn't know," she said darkly.

Parvati looked like she was choosing her next words very carefully. "Lavender is…" she paused letting her words trail off. "…selectively blind," Parvati said slowly. "She chooses to see the things she wants and leaves out the rest."

Hermione sighed. It seemed like Parvati had all the answers tonight, so she might as well try and ask the important one.

"Then why is _he_" -- she still didn't like to say his name – "with Lavender?" she asked, her tone blank.

"Well, my answer, like I said before is that he's a git. The real answer? He's a git and probably something we don't know."

Hermione silently agreed. Even if they ever made up (which at this point seemed highly unlikely), se doubted he would ever tell her, and she wouldn't push the subject. She would try as hard as she could to forget about it.

"It will work itself out. You'll be fine soon" Parvati said soothingly. "It'll be fine."

Hermione stood up and faced Parvati. "Thank you," she said.

Parvati smiled kindly. "Anytime."

"Parvati? Can you keep this private?" She knew how much Parvati loved to gossip.

"Of course." The other girls seemed shocked that Hermione would even have suggested it.

Hermione stole a glance at her watch. "Oh, shoot, it's time to go."

Parvati looked at hers too. "They're probably wondering where I am. She grabbed the book she had been looking for off the bed and walked to the door. "That top look wonderful on you. You must let me borrow it sometime."

Hermione gave her a small smile. "Sure."

Parvati was half way out the door when she turned around and spoke. "He'll die when he sees you in that. And no," she said before Hermione could say anything. "I don't mean McLaggen." She winked as she gently closed the door.

Hermione just blushed.

* * *

Ron Weasley was miserable. Why should he be? He had a gorgeous girl snogging his face off at the moment, yet he felt like crap. Lavender Brown was currently tangled with him in the same armchair, one of his hands on her waist, and one on the wrist of the hand that wasn't going through his hair. She really was a very good kisser. Too bad he didn't enjoy it.

At first it had been nice. The attention was flattering. Then she started getting clingy. Then downright annoying. All they did was snog. It was robotic and got old to Ron fast. Fortunately, Lavender never seemed to notice how his attention drifted during their time together. All he had to do was move his lips mechanically, and meanwhile he could think about anything. Actually, during his sessions with Lavender was when he got the most thinking done, and she never noticed how not into it he was.

The only time he really got onto it with Lavender, not including the beginning of their "relationship" (and he used that word loosely. He might be new at this, but he was pretty sure a real relationship involved _talking_), was whenever _she_ was around. It was odd how seeing the girl he fancied made him snog another senseless. He knew it bothered her. He knew that if he went at it while _she_ was watching it would cause _her_ to sober up and cause her to retreat to _anywhere_ but there.

At first, he felt pride. _Take that_, he wanted to say. _Someone wants to snog me too!_ Then he felt guilty. He hated making her cry. Whenever he felt guilty there was always this little voice that popped up in the back of his head that only had to say one thing for him to feel better: Krum. After that, he didn't care less whether or not she was in the room. At least, that's what he tried to tell himself he didn't care, even if the nagging in his gut told him otherwise.

It had been working fine, too. Whenever _she_ was around he would make sure to grab Lavender and kiss the living daylights out of her.She would sober up and become sullen and he would feel satisfaction. But that plan had failed him today.

At dinner she didn't even look his way. Not one single glance. He was practically mauling Lavender and she didn't even blink! Instead she had announced she was going to Slughorn's Christmas party with Cormac McLaggen. And she sounded cheerful. Then she got up, walked away, and he could've sworn that he saw smirk on her face as she did. After that it was kind of a blur. All he really remembered was wanting to strangle McLaggen for even looking at her. That led Ron to the reason he was miserable. McLaggen. First Krum, now McLaggen. No one could leave him alone for five blasted minutes! McLaggen, the great brute, was taking Hermione, _his_ Hermione, to Slughorn's. How dare he!

As Lavender started an assault on the left side of his neck, he reasoned that he had no right to be jealous. Hermione wasn't his –not anymore at least. Then again, if he was being honest, she had never really been his, had she? He had always kept it platonic, scared of getting involved with something more. But it was too late now.

Suddenly the object of his thoughts came making her way down the girl's dormitory stairs. He knew. Mainly because his eyes were half-way open (Lavender would never notice), but also because he seemed to feel her presence. He immediately shut his eyes a little more, but left them open just enough so he could see through his lashes. He scanned her over. She looked good. Really good. Her hair was in a bun and –Damn! What was she trying to do to him? Why did that bloody top have to be that _low_? Why did she have to wear her skirt at that length? She _never_ wore it that short! Was this her revenge? It was working if it was. At the moment was slightly afraid to move. If he did, Hermione's name might slip out and he didn't want to hear Lavender's reaction to_ that_.

As she entered the Common Room, he suddenly turned his attention back to Lavender, but still, left his eyes slightly open. He roughly grabbed Lavender's head back up from his neck and pressed his lips firmly against hers. She giggled. He rolled his eyes. Another reason he didn't like snogging with Lavender (besides that fact that he didn't like snogging with her in general), was that she giggled sometimes. Who the hell giggles while kissing? Ron choose to ignore it.

She was making her way across the Common Room now, looking at gorgeous as ever, with a slight smile on her face. Her gaze was straight ahead, fixed on something by the portrait hole. It was difficult to turn and bring Lavender with him, but her managed. McLaggen. She was smiling like that was at McLaggen. Rage filled him. Why McLaggen? Why not anyone else? Anyone else he could handle. But McLaggen? He felt the need to break something. Then realization washed over him. _You idiot_, said that damn Little Voice. _She's not trying to make you insanely jealous or send you to an early grave. She dressed like that –and smiling like that –for _McLaggen.

Now he felt like making a dent in the Common Room wall with his fist. Damn that Little Voice, damn it!

She had reached McLaggen as he so obviously leered at her. She just smiled at him, oblivious. His eyes looked her up and down and Ron felt a fresh surge of anger as he realized what of her McLaggen was staring at. At an attempt to look gentlemanly, he grabbed her hand, brought it to his lips, and gave it a kiss. Even in the dim light of the room, Ron saw her blush. Now he felt like pushing Lavender off him, putting his hands around McLaggen's throat, yell at Hermione, then push her up against a wall, and…Well he couldn't let his thoughts drift off _there_.

McLaggen and Hermione continued to make small talk by the portrait hole. She still had that stupid, gorgeous smile plastered on her face. We went at it twice as hard with Lavender, hoping by some chance she would look their way. _She's not going to notice you_, said Little Voice. He ignored it. He was determined.

McLaggen opened the portrait hole and gestured for Hermione to step out first. Ron soon saw the reason why was probably not as noble as Hermione thought it was. As she walked away he noticed the beast staring at _another _part of her anatomy. At this point Ron was ready to explode from rage. He –

"Ow, Ron."

He looked up. There was Lavender, who had for once stopped kissing him. She grabbed her wrist from his hand and rubbed it gently. Oh, shit. Now he had hurt the one girl who was willing to look his way.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He had wanted to break a glass or something, not Lavender's wrist.

"It's okay."

He sighed. He couldn't do this anymore tonight. "Look, Lavender, I'm really tired. I think I'm going to go to bed."

"But it's only 8:00!"

"Yeah, I'm just really tired."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow."

She let him get up, all the while pouting, and gave him and a chaste peck on the lips.

"'Night Won-Won."

He winced as she called him that. It was a ridiculous nickname she had taken to calling him recently and it drove him mad.

"'Night."

As he made his way up the boy's dormitory stairs, he turned and his eyes lingered on the spot near the portrait hole where he had seen McLaggen and Hermione together. He shut his eyes tight at the memory, and continued making his way up the stairs with his dreary thoughts.

He really was miserable.

* * *

She knew he was watching her. It was a bit obvious, really. Well, at least it was obvious to her. It was because of his obviousness that she made a show of smiling at McLaggen and trying not to look repulsed when he touched her. She was rather proud of herself, actually. She had gotten his attention and didn't give him one single, solitary glance. All right, maybe one. A tiny and quick glace out of the corner of her eye just to make sure he was watching. Which he was. It was hard to keep the smirk off her face when she thought about it. She just might enjoy this evening after all, as long as she was still on this victory high.

It was only after she and Cormac slipped out of the Common Room did she realize that even that high could not make this night slightly enjoyable. Not only was she subjected to McLaggen's leering, she also had the opportunity to hear firsthand about his amazing Quidditch skills. Is that the only thing boys cared about?

Now that she no longer had Ron to make jealous, Hermione wished she had never asked McLaggen out in the first place. The only reason she had done it was to annoy him. Now that he wasn't there…

That stupid voice popped up again. _You shouldn't have wanted to get him jealous in the first place_, it remarked. _You should have just told him you wanted to go to this party with him, not just as friends, but as more._

Hermione sighed. The Little Voice was right. As usual. It was making her confused. Yes, she liked Ron. But he obviously didn't like her back, no matter what Parvati said. Besides, even if she had told him she wanted to go with him as more then friends, he would have turned her down or just said yes out of pity. He still would have gone out with Lavender. It wouldn't have stopped him. Or would it…?

Before their friendship ended there had been times when she thought she wasn't the only one who felt that way. She had thought maybe he returned the feeling. Maybe he still did…

She shook the thought from her head. Her ponderings just made her more confused. As she listened to McLaggen drone on about a spectacular save he once made, she came to a conclusion. There was a lot Hermione Granger didn't know anymore, but she knew one thing for certain:

She absolutely, positively _hated_ that Little Voice.

* * *

**And done! Phew, that took forever to type! I've had this story written for a couple months already, but I'm just posting it now. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed it! Tell me how much you enjoyed it by reviewing!**


	8. Midnight Bottle

**Those Little Moments**

**Story Summary:** It's always those little moments that make our favorite couple so irresistible. A series of Ron and Hermione OneShots through the years.

**Disclaimer:** Do I look like J.K. Rowling? Wait, you don't know what I look like. Never mind then. But the answer is no. I do not.

**Rating:** T. Just letting you know this chapter has a bit of language and drinking, if you couldn't tell from the title.

**Author's Note:** See? Told you this one wasn't going to be a 6th year fic. Takes place when Ron leaves and is at Shell Cottage with Bill.

**OneShot Summary: **Ron is miserable. A talk with Bill and some alcohol just might make it better though.

* * *

_--_

_I've got a midnight bottle gonna drink it down  
A one way ticket takes me to the times we had before  
When everything felt so right  
If only for tonight _

…

_I've got a midnight bottle gonna ease my pain  
From all these feelings driving me insane  
When I'm with you and everything's all right if only for tonight_

_--Midnight Bottle, Colbie Caillat _

_--_

* * *

"Dumbledore."

No response.

"Dumbledore's Army."

Still no response.

"Kingsley."

Once again, unresponsive.

He sighed. This was getting useless. He had already tried about half of the things he could think of relating to the Order, but all attempts proved to be fruitless.

"Try 'Ogwarts."

He turned around and faced the voice coming from the doorway. Fleur stood there, looking as perfect as ever. Her long silvery hair hung down her back, graceful and flowing. Everything about her seemed perfect, except for her face which, instead of its usual smile, housed a intense and worried expression. Ron ignored this for now. He turned back to the wireless on his bedside table.

"Hogwarts."

Suddenly, a signal. "…and back to you River."

He turned to Fleur once again. "You're good at that."

"Eet eez not me; Bill eez very good at zat."

Then there was a silence. The only sound was Lee Jordan's voice reporting the latest news.

"Do you want dinner?"

She sounded nervous. He could not blame her. He had barely eaten in the six weeks he had been here. It was Christmas Eve and Bill and Fleur had had an elaborate dinner a few hours before. Ron had skipped out. His appetite was gone. And it had been for the whole time he had been there. He had come out briefly for quick meals, but then retreated back to his room to listen to Potterwatch if it was on.

"A little later."

He heard her sigh. "Ronald, come out of zis room. Zat is all you do all day. Sit and listen to zat," she said pointing to the wireless.

At that moment Ron knew Fleur would never understand his latest obsession was the one thing keeping him sane. Without Potterwatch, he would have gone mental by now. Not that he wasn't well on his way.

"I'm not very hungry."

He could practically feel Fleur's frustration radiating off her in waves. He feared he would be on the receiving end of her wrath until he was saved by Bill.

"Let him be, Fleur. He'll eat when he's ready."

Fleur didn't look happy. Her lips were pursed and her eyes narrowed, but she left as Bill put an arm around her and steered her away from the room. When they disappeared from view, Ron grabbed his wand, and with a lazy flick, closed the door. He wanted to be alone in his misery. If we has going to wallow he didn't want to have then watch him do it.

So far, he had been wallowing for the past six weeks. Ever since he left. Left them. Left his friends; his _family_. He had left him.

Harry.

Would Harry ever speak to him again? He doubted it. The things they said had been awful to each other, but Ron felt as if it was his fault. True, the locket had just intensified things, but he had been thinking them anyway to begin with. There went that friendship.

Not only had he left Harry, he had left someone else. _Her_.

Hermione.

How had he managed to mess it up so quickly? How was it possible? It was over before it had even begun. He was the biggest screw-up in the history of the world. He was been so close to having what he wanted most, but now it was just as far away as it had been seven years ago. And she had called him back! He heard her right before he Dissaperated. And yet he ignored her. He was such a… He couldn't even think of a bad enough word to describe himself. He knew Hermione. He knew that when he came back, and it was only a matter of time now, that she would never forgive him.

As Ron lay there moping and cursing himself, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine what they were doing now. Eating? Researching? Did they manage to find new information in the six weeks he'd been gone? Were they even mourning his absence? _Why would they,_ Ron thought bitterly to himself. _I only hold them back._

Sometime later, he didn't know when, he opened his eyes again and realized he had fallen asleep. As he looked out the window and saw the pitch black sky, he noted he had been out for a while and that is was probably Christmas day already. He stretched on the bed and heard a loud rumble coming from his stomach. Ron figured that it was alright to leave the sanctuary of his room. It was night, after all. Bill and Fleur were sleeping now. That was part of the reason he hated coming out. He didn't want to deal with the questions about where they were and why Ron had left. He just wanted to be left alone with no reminders.

He grabbed his wand, climbed out of bed, and made his way down the hall of quaint Shell Cottage. He reached the kitchen, whispered "_Lumos_", and tried to think of what Bill would have lying around that would make a good midnight snack.

"Ron."

He shouted in surprise and pointed his wand in the direction of the voice. The light at the tip showed the scarred face of his brother, Bill. He exhaled in relief and dropped his wand.

"Bloody hell, Bill. Trying to scare me to death?"

His brother gave a small smile. "Not quite."

Ron made his way over to the table where his brother sat, and took the chair opposite him.

"Why are you sitting in the dark anyway?" Ron asked him.

"No reason, really. Just thinking."

"In the dark? In the middle of the kitchen?" He was starting to worry about Bill's sanity.

Bill gave a small chuckle. "Yeah. In the dark and in the middle of the kitchen. It's the best place and time to have a drink."

Ron didn't understand at first until his gaze fell to the place right next to where Bill was sitting. There was a glass and a bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey. "Exactly how much of that have you been drinking?"

Bill smiled. "Just enough." He paused for a second then said to Ron, "You want some?"

"Me?" Ron asked.

"Of course you," his brother said, rolling his eyes. "You're seventeen now, aren't you? You can have shot or two." _Or three. Or four,_ Ron added mentally.

"Um, sure," he answered. This was not what he had in mind when he went looking for a midnight snack, and alcohol on an empty stomach probably wasn't good, but he didn't care. He knew some people got pissed off Firewhiskey and other drinks to forget their problems and troubles. Right now that was exactly what he wanted to do. Forget.

Bill summoned a shot glass from the cupboard above the sink and poured some of the strong liquid for Ron. He passed him the glass across the table. Bill raised his own glass and the two brothers clinked them together.

"Merry Christmas," Bill said.

They downed it and Ron winced. It burned all the way down his throat. No wonder it was called _Fire_whiskey.

The brothers sat in silence for a while, each lost in his own thoughts. Finally, Bill broke the silence by saying what was on his mind.

"So, d'you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Ron asked, as he poured himself another glass.

"Why you're here. Why you're so upset. Any of it."

Ron wiped his mouth from his latest shot, and sighed. "Bill, I told you before and you know I can't—"

"I know, I know. You can't tell me where you were or why you were there. But can you at least tell me why you left?"

Ron stared at the table for a few moments, a raging battle going on inside his head. "I just did," he said after a while.

"Please, Ron. Cut the shit. You know as well as I do you would never leave Harry and Hermione," Ron winced as her name was spoken, "without a good reason. And I want to know what that reason is."

"I just— I don't know."

"Ron…"

"We got into a fight alright? Don't even ask what it was about, I can't say. But we just did. And I left."

Silence. Ron knew that wouldn't be good.

"Just like that?" Bill asked suddenly. "You left them, just like that?" He sounded angry. "You left the two people you care the most about over something as childish and stupid as a fight?" His voice was laced with disbelief.

"You don't even know what the fight was about," Ron told him defensively, a bit angry himself now. He reached for the Firewhiskey bottle again.

Bill stopped him. "I think you've had enough."

"I think I'm old enough to make my own decisions," was Ron's cold reply.

Bill didn't try to stop him again.

"So that was your decision? To leave them and come here. Not go back?"

Ron slammed his glass down angrily. "You think I wouldn't go back if I had the chance? You think I would stay here, while they're out there without me? You really think that, Bill?"

Bill didn't say anything.

"You're wrong. So completely wrong. I would go back to them in a heartbeat, if I could. But I can't, can I? I don't even know where they are, Bill! How can I go back when I don't even know where they fucking are?" He felt the anger pouring threw him now, a combination of Bill's words and the whiskey.

The quietness engulfed them again as Bill reached for the Firewhiskey bottle and poured himself another shot. After he drank and stared at the table for a few minutes, he said to Ron, "Want to tell me what happened? What started this whole thing?"

Ron sighed. "I can't tell you what it was about. I just know that I messed up big time." He sighed again, and mumbled quietly to himself under his breath, "I doubt they'll speak to me again." The thought caused him to reach for the bottle of alcohol.

"I doubt that's true, Ron. You may have majorly screwed up, but I think the two closest people in your life will talk to you again…eventually," Bill stated, having heard that last part.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Please," he said. "Spare me. You don't know what was thrown around, Bill. If you heard, you'd agree with me. He'll never speak to me again." He didn't even want to think of what Hermione would to do him. Whatever it was it would be ten times worse then not speaking to him, that's for sure.

"You and Harry got into a fight? It's happened before. Both of you will get over it."

"Not this time, Bill. And I left, remember? I left him when he needed me. That's something I don't think I'll ever be excused for."

"Yeah, well…" he paused for a moment, and then said the line Ron had been dreading this whole time: "What about Hermione?"

Ron laughed once, without humor. "I mucked that one up a long time ago, didn't I?" He buried his face in his hands. His head was starting to spin due to the drinks and the conversation.

"What'd you do to her? If I remember correctly, I saw you two a few months ago at my wedding, dancing. You looked pretty happy then."

That was then, wasn't it? Ron wanted to say. Not now.

"I—I don't even know. I take it back. Harry may forgive me, but Hermione? Never."

Bill rolled his eyes. "Way to be dramatic, Ron."

"Bill, have you even met Hermione? The girl can hold a grudge until you're good and buried."

His brother laughed once. "That may be true, but I doubt what you did to _her_ could be like you're fight with Harry. Last time I saw you, you were trying very hard to impress her. I don't think that you did anything too terrible to her except leave, that is."

"Exactly! That's _exactly _what I did! I _left_!"

He could hear the question already forming in Bill's head. _But you did that to Harry, what's so different with Hermione?_

"She called after me, Bill." The memory was painful to dredge up. It hurt to hear her crying and pleading. "She begged me to come back. Followed me out into the rain and begged. I heard her, but I kept running. I ignored her. And now she probably hates me."

There was silence again. Then, "Let me get this straight. She called after you?"

"Yes."

"Begged you?"

"Yes."

"And you ignored her?"

"Yes."

More silence.

"You, Ron, are an idiot."

Like he didn't know before.

Bill reached over and put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Look, you're right. She's going to be angry at you. And not going to speak to you for a while. And I know this because you're right—I've met Hermione. I know she's going to be furious, as do you. And I'm not happy with you right now either. Running out on Harry, ignoring _Hermione _of all people. It's gonna take time." He paused then continued. "But they'll forgive you. You know they will."

Ron was quiet for a moment before speaking up.

"I would have a chance of fixing things if I could figure out a way to get back." Another sigh.

"Can't help you there, little brother. That'll play itself out."

Ron snorted. Yeah, right. He'd forever be stuck here with no means of escape. No way of finding his way back to the place he belonged. With them. He poured himself one last drink, downed it, and wished Bill goodnight. He slowly trudged his way up to his room, knowing that even though he was a tad tipsy, tomorrow's headache would not feel any better.

In his room he could not sleep. He tossed and turned and rolled over, but unconsciousness never came. He gave up on trying to sleep and turned on the light and the radio to some station—he wasn't really listening. He laid there waiting for sleep to claim him when he heard it.

"Ron."

It was _her_ voice. _Hermione's_ voice. He bolted upright and looked around franticly. _Where was she?_

He heard her voice again, this time saying something about a wand. Where was she?! Her voice has heard as clear as day in the tiny room, but he couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Then it hit him. She wasn't in his room; he was stupid for even thinking that. No, her voice sounded like it came out of his pocket. Wait. Out of his _pocket_?

He must be going metal he decided as he sat down on his bed again. Slowly, he reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out Dumbledore's gift. The Deluminator. He held the silver object in his hand and turned it over. No, it was impossible. No way could her voice come out of that. But there was no other option. It was either this strange gift Dumbledore had left him in his will, or nothing. Ron was positive he heard her voice. Why not give it a shot?

He carefully clicked the Deluminator and suddenly the light flew out of his room. He held his breath as he waited. Then…nothing.

He felt like laughing at himself. He was insane. Why would he think her voice could come out of the Deluminator? _How_ could it even come out of the Deluminator? He turned, ready to crawl back into bed and get some shut eye, when he saw it outside his window. It was bluish. And pulsing. And he needed to go after it.

Faster then the speed of light, Ron had packed his things, scribbled Bill a short note telling him not to worry and that he was sorry he couldn't say a proper goodbye, and was out the front door.

There it was, waiting for him in the garden. It stated to move. _No, wait!_ Ron wanted to call. _Where are you going?_ Slowly it moved towards the back of the shed. Ron followed. Although he had no idea what this thing was, he knew it was meant for him.

It glided closer to him and he could feel it was radiating some warmth. He moved a step closer, and suddenly, it floated inside him. Right through his chest, near his heart. It felt even hotter there.

Ron knew what he needed to do. He counted to three, and turned into the air. He didn't know exactly where this incredible little ball of light would take him, but he knew what he would find there.

Home.

* * *

**And there you have it, folks. My new chapter. Sorry it took so freakin long to get it up. My usual laziness combined with the start of school (even though it was a month ago!) didn't help my writing. I really hope you liked this one. I took me a long time. I know a couple people were very anxiously awaiting this chapter, and they have been every patient. Therefore this chapter goes out to them. Thanks guys! Feel free to tell me how much you liked it by leaving a review!**

**LiVE.UR.LiFE xx **


	9. The Inspiration

**Those Little Moments**

**Things I Own:** A flamingo pen, four pairs of orange underwear, and a new camera case.

**Things I Don't:** Harry Potter.

**WARNING:**This OneShot contains massive amounts of fluff that may be hazardous to your health. Proceed with caution. Oh, and it's also extremely short.

* * *

At two 'o clock in the morning, one Hermione Granger made her way down the cold, narrow hallway of the Borrow wrapped in a cozy blanket and dreading the next day. As she slowly trudged her way down a small flight of stairs that led to another landing, she felt guilty for not wanting to leave. After all, she hadn't seen her parents in a few months. Though she didn't see the Weasleys much either, she still saw them more often. Hermione loved her parents; shouldn't she want to spend the remainder of her Christmas holidays with them? That was the deal –spend the first half of the break with the Weasleys and Harry, then spend the second half, starting New Years Day, with her parents. At the time is seemed like a great arrangement. Only now she was dreading it.

This past September, the first September after the war, Hermione had gone back to Hogwarts to complete her seventh year. And _only_ Hermione. Ron and Harry had declined the offer to go back and started to work; Harry training as an Auror, and Ron helping out George at the joke shop, although in another year or two, he too would be going in for Auror training.

Though she had friends there, and the Head Girl position, she still missed them terribly. McGonagall had given her special privileges because she was Head Girl and because she had practically begged the older woman to. Therefore, on Saturday, Hermione was allowed a visitor or two, but that was it. Just one day out of a whole week. Four times a month. That was all she got to see them. Sure, they kept in touch with letters almost everyday, but she missed her friends, Ron especially. After all, she wasn't snogging all her other friends.

The thought made her smile. These past few months had been amazing between them. Oh, they still had their fights, they were Ron and Hermione after all, but they happened less frequently and the make ups were always better. He had grown up so much these past few months, with the death of his brother, and the war, and she truly saw the man he had become. And she loved it. She loved him.

Finally, she reached the last stair, and rounded the corner into the cozy living room. She just wanted to spend some time down here before she left in the morning, just to think about some things. Ron, in particular. And how difficult tomorrow would be, and how much she was dreading it.

As she fully stepped into the room, she saw a fire had been lit, and the couch had been occupied by one very tall, very freckly, very red-haired person. She spoke softly as she approached him.

"Hey."

He turned around and glanced at her, startled. "Hey." He made some room next to him. "What're you doing out of bed?"

She shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. You?"

"Yeah," he said, as she took a seat next to him. "Couldn't sleep."

There was a comfortable silence as Ron put his arm around her, and she snuggled into his side. "I don't want to go home tomorrow," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"I don't want you to go home either," he sighed, and kissed the top of her head.

Minutes passed in silence, each with their separate thoughts. It was suddenly broken by Ron.

"You know I love you, right?"

She smiled into the dimness of the room. Never ever, ever would she tire of hearing those three words come from his mouth. "I know. And you know I love you too, right?" This time she felt him smile into her hair.

"I know. I know." There was a slight pause as he considered his next words. "I know this may sound incredibly stupid, Hermione, but I was wondering… What exactly, do you, you know. _Love _about me?"

She turned her body so it as facing his, and stared at him. Just stared at him. Was he serious? What was there not to love? He noticed her gaze and dropped his eyes as his cheeks and ears turned a shade of vibrant shade of red. "Never mind," he mumbled. "I knew it was stupid to ask—"

"No, no!" she interrupted him. "I was just surprised, is all." She hesitated before she asked her question. "What brought this on?"

He hesitated before answering, unsure of what to say. "I dunno. I just… I was just wondering." He shrugged.

She thought about his question for a minute. The incredible things came to mind first, followed by the not so incredible things. Yes, he could be an arse, and stubborn, and just down right annoying, but without all that he wouldn't be _Ron_. He noticed her silence and shook his head slightly. "Never mind. I told you it was stupid."

"No," she said quietly. "It's not." She sat up straighter and turned on the old couch to face him.

She lightly kissed his forehead. "I love you because you are, without a doubt, the bravest person I know."

He scoffed. "Harry…"

She glared at him for interrupting her. "Harry had no choice. It was his destiny. He_ had_ to do it. You? You didn't have to. You chose to put your life on the line and help out a friend. That's true bravery."

She shifted into a more comfortable position on her knees, so now they both could met eye-to-eye.

"I love you because you're beautiful, inside and out." She planted a kiss on his left cheek.

He rolled his eyes. "Beautiful, Hermione? Really? Couldn't you pick something a little more, I dunno, _manly_?"

It was her turn to roll her eyes. "Manly? You mean like handsome? Rugged?" Her voice dropped and octave or two. "Sexy?" She smirked as she saw him swallow hard.

He seemed a bit flustered as he answered. "Um, yeah." He cleared his throat. "Those would work."

She gave a happy little laugh and continued to speak to him. "I love you because, as much as you're unwilling to admit it, you have a brilliant brain." She landed a kiss on his right cheek. He opened his mouth, about to object, but she got there first. "And don't you dare deny it, Ronald Weasley. Do you honestly think I'd be with someone who was stupid? _Honestly?_ You have a brilliant brain. You just to use it a little more," she said with a slight smile. She giggled when he stuck his tongue out at her.

She became serious once more. "Do you know what I love most about you?"

He shook his head.

"I love that you're stubborn. I love that you're an arse. I love that you make me laugh and cry and act completely insane. I love your loyalty, and your will to do the right thing. I love that you're sometimes insensitive, and sometimes arrogant. I love that you love your family, and your friends. I love everything you do, because without it all, you wouldn't be _you._ And that's what I love the most: all the little things that make you _you._"

Ron was speechless. Absolutely speechless. Everything she just said, from every little sentence to every little letter, made him fall impossibly more in love with her.

"You're amazing," he breathed in astonishment. He had no idea she thought all _that._

"I'm just simply stating the facts," she said. "You're the one who inspired all of that."

He couldn't help but kiss her after her declaration. To not would be a crime. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, and she responded eagerly.

Even though it was around 2:30 in the morning, and she was leaving in a few hours, and wouldn't see him for a whole other week, Hermione couldn't help but smile through the kiss.

He was truly her inspiration for everything.

* * *

Aww..:)

Anyway guys, I'm so sorry for the wait. And I'm sorry that this chapter is really short. Tomorrow, I will be leaving, well, _everything _for about a month, but after I really intend to focus on this story a little more!

Remember: reviews = more fluff. Or if that's not your style, it equals more chapter. Ahh, there we go!


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